


Las Penas Vienen y Van

by Ibrithir



Category: Coco (2017), The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: F/M, Folklore and Puppetry go together surprisingly well, Villain!AU spinoff, dorks in love in the 70s, featuring ABBA and bad outfits, fluff and drama mingled together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibrithir/pseuds/Ibrithir
Summary: Inspired by the excellent Villain!AU and Rodrigo Rivera works of im_fairly_witty and death_frisbeeInspired by her mother Iria's stories of New York, Luzia moved to the City that Never Sleeps to find her own adventure. But the New York of the 1970s is a much different, darker place then her mother's New York, one that seems more suited to tearing down dreams then building them up. And she's starting to wonder if maybe she'd put a little too much childhood wonder into those stories.But a chance encounter sets Luzia on a story of her own, one with danger, romance, laughter, tears, and a ghost from the past who sometimes seems more literal then figurative.





	1. And When You Get the Chance...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [im_fairly_witty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_fairly_witty/gifts), [death_frisbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/gifts).



> Here it is! After weeks of research into both the Villain!AU, (which was a heartbreaking delight to go over again), and actual historical research, (which convinced me that nobody should live in New York in the 70s) and lots of amazing chats with im_fairly_witty and death_frisbee, here it is! Luzia's own story! Because I just love this girl so much, and somebody in this AU deserves to have and give some happiness :)

Mid October 1977

 

Luzia had lived in New York City for one month, five days and 17 hours, and everyday since she’d arrived she’d wondered what on earth had possessed her to move here.

 

Between the blackouts, fires, drugs, murders, urban decay and almost bi-weekly demonstrations for one thing or another, there didn't seem to much left of the almost magical sounding city her mother had told her so many stories of growing up. 

 

At least, not much left that wasn't covered in graffiti. 

 

She didn't know how she would have survived if it hadn't been for Kay Anderson. The tall blonde girl  who roomed with her was New York born and bred, could sass with the best of them, wielded mace like an artist wielded a paintbrush, and wasn't afraid to kick a rat in the face-- be it mammal or man.

 

On Luzia’s first day after moving in she’d handed her a map that had all the “safe streets” around their neighborhood marked in red pen, and told her to always carry “mugging money” no matter what part of the city she was in.

 

(She’d also tried to instruct Luzia on all the uses of amethyst and rose-quartz while going over her homework from her corporate law classes, a combination that both amused Luzia and terrified her on behalf of Kay’s future clients.)

 

If it hadn't been for the fact that she’d just spent the better part of the year convincing her parents that she’d be fine--and that she’d already paid ahead on the apartment and her tuition-- Luzia probably would have headed home the first time she’d caught sight of a rat the size of a small dog going through their trash.

 

As it was, she was determined to stick it out, to salvage her pride if nothing else. The weekly phone calls home she made through the Maldonian Embassy were full of assurances that school was going well--which was true, but then she’d always enjoyed learning-- and she liked her job-- which was mostly true, at least when Mr. Belzker wasn't looking over her shoulder trying to make sure she wasn't going to steal any of the books she shelved--but she tended to gloss over anything that had happened that might upset her parents and grandparents.

 

“No I haven’t been able to get to the Botanical Gardens yet  _ papi _ , but I’m planning on it. Kay’s going to help me figure out the best subway route that doesn’t--Yes  _ mamai _ I'm being careful. No I haven’t been mugged. Yes I’ve got a bottle in my purse right now...Well Vov ó  Tiana’s probably right, a frying pan  _ would _ likely be more effective but it’s a bit harder to carry around--what? Heh, no I haven’t had the chance to get down to Graceland yet Vovo Naveen. Yes I’ll make sure to put flowers on Elvis’s grave if I ever do. Give my love to everybody ok? Oh and  _ papi _ , remember to give Dulce her extra bedtime treats--Nothing  _ mamai,  _ I was just reminding  _ papi  _ what you said about keeping Dulce on her diet, thanks for walking her by the way.  _ E eis ama _ .”

 

To distract herself from the growing sense of disillusionment, Luzia had poured her time and attention into her studies. Growing up traveling across Europe for her mother’s diplomatic duties, Luzia had been exposed to all kinds of cultures, and their stories. Folklore fascinated her, and the individualized study program she’d been accepted to allowed her access to all sorts of resources she’d never even dreamed of. With that to occupy her, Luzia had decided to be content with sticking to a routine of school, work, library and apartment--with occasional trips to the Embassy and the corner store when she ran out of food. When she’d first been making her plans to move to New York, Luzia had written out a long list of places she’d wanted visit and sights she’d wanted to see, mostly made up of places in her mother’s stories. The list was transferred from notebook to notebook as she filled them up, but remained woefully unchecked, and from the current state of things, always would.

 

Kay however, seemed determined to make sure that Luzia saw something of the city besides the few blocks surrounding their apartment. She was always inviting her to go out to concerts or parties, and as most of them seemed to end with Kay staggering into their apartment at four in the morning, muttering about how some idiot had brought drugs and the cops had gotten involved, and that if she hadn’t been able to get away on her Vespa she didn’t know  _ what _ she’d have done, Luzia was glad that she always found an excuse to decline.

 

Not that this ever deterred Kay. 

 

“ Let’s go out tonight.” She said with a grin, leaning over the side of the couch where Luzia was working on translating some of her favorite Maldonian folktales into English. There’d been a few translations done over the years, but she felt that none of them really captured the original spirit and lyrisism of the language. She’d been wanting to work on them all week, so her only response to Kay’s determination was a placid:

 

“ Can’t. School.”

 

“It’s Friday!”

 

“And there was school today.” Luzia said, scribbling over a passage and writing it out again, this time changing “dapper cat” to “a feline debonair”.

 

“That's not how that works!” Kay protested, folding her arms and flopping backwards onto the dark green sofa with an annoyed huff.

 

“Girl seriously,  _ I'm _ the one studying for a “real job” at a “real school” and I don't even work as hard as you do!”

 

“I want to get this translations done before Sunday. Maybe next time.”

 

“That’s what you said  _ last  _ time.” Kay scolded, flipping herself upright and resting her head on one arm so that she could glare meaningfully at Luzia. “And the time before that, and the time before  _ that _ . I get not digging the whole “New York Party” scene, but you even said no to the Beach Boys Concert!”

 

“It was the Beach Boys.”

 

“Eh,  _ Touche _ .” Kay conceded with a roll of her eyes. “But seriously girl, what’s the point of being in New York if you don’t  _ experience _ any of it! It’s like...like being born and then not bothering to  _ live _ !”

 

The thought made Luzia pause. She had to admit...she did feel a bit bored, and maybe even a little bit...well,  _ guilty _ , for working so hard to get here and then just staying in her rooms. Still, New York hadn’t offered her that much incentive to get out of them.

 

“Look, at _ least _ come to this new roller-disco with me tonight.”  Kay said in her most pleading, over-dramatic tone. “Lights, music, greasy food, skating around and around in a circle. It’s like New York in miniature!” 

 

“I don't know how to skate.” Luzia said with a laugh as she looked back over her notes. Would “ _ the maiden wept _ ” or “ _ the maiden lamented _ ” be a better translation here?

  
  


“The DJ loves to play ABBA…”

  
  


The tip of Luzia’s pencil hovered over the page. And try as she might, she couldn’t help but noticed that a gleam had come into Kay’s eyes, like a lion spotting it’s prey’s first sign of weakness.

 

“Think of it Luzy, ABBA blasting loud enough to rattle your fillings without any neighbors around to complain.”

 

Luzia began nervously biting her eraser. She  _ did _ miss being able to blast her records without getting broomed by the people upstairs...and downstairs..and next-door…

“ _ Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for a place to go… _ ”

 

Luzia slammed her hands over her ears, sending her notebook toppling to the floor, but this reaction only prompted Kay to sing louder.

 

“ _ With bit of rock music, everything is fine. You’re in the mood for a dance, AND WHEN YOU GET THE CHANCE--! _ ”

  
  


“ _ D’escha, d’escha, d’escha _ !”  Luzia cried, slapping a hand over Kay’s now laughing mouth.  

 

“I’ll go.” She said with a firm tone,“  _ But,  _ I’m taking my notebook, and the moment I decide we’re leaving, we leave ok? I don’t want my parents getting a call that I got caught up in a drug bust.”

 

“Deal.” Kay said,pulling away from Luzia with an all too satisfied grin, “I'm just happy to get you out  and about. And anyway, this one’s like, an all-ages joint, so the chances of the cops showing up are only about...fifty-fifty.”

 

***

The roller-disco was loud, bright, jam-packed with people of all ages wearing the most eye-searing colors, and smelled like burnt pretzels and undercooked pizza.

 

Luzia would never admit it to Kay--but she loved it.

 

She’d missed music, and dancing, and  _ people _ . She’d always been a sociable person, if not really a party-er, and she’d missed the ebb and flow and energy of interacting with people just out to have a good time.

 

And Kay was right, the D.J. did love to play ABBA.

 

Though Luzia wasn’t feeling to happy about this particular song at this particular moment.

 

“Well hon, you may be a duchess but you are definitely  _ not _ a dancing queen.” Kay said with a laugh as she glided past where Luzia was flailing frantically to stay upright. 

 

“ _ Taciti _ .” Luzia hissed, catching hold of the side of the rink just in time to keep herself from falling flat on her face. “I told you I couldn’t skate.”

 

“Yeah but I mean, we’ve been here almost an  _ hour!”  _ Kay chuckled as Luiza began edging along the side. __ “I mean, how is it even possible for you to be this ba--”

 

“Alright!” Luzia cried, releasing the wall and haphazardly making her way towards the door of the rink at a snail’s pace.  “I’m invoking my right leave.”

 

“Aw come on!” Kay cried, sliding up to Luzia with a pout. “I promise I’ll shut up.”

 

“Nope!” Luzia replied, biting her lip in concentration as she continued her slow shuffle.  “We made a deal. Besides, I’m not taking the subway alone this late.” She reached into her satchel, feeling around for her roll of subway tokens, pulling out her notebook to look for them.  “I need to get this done anywa--.”

 

“Look out!”

 

Something slammed hard into Luzia’s side, sending her notebook--and knees--flying upwards.

One moment she was falling, the next she felt her downward momentum being abruptly halted by a pair of arms, and she looking up into a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

 

“You alright?”

 

A young man, about her age, looked down at her with open concern. “I’m sure sorry.”

 

He had the slightest bit of an accent, which made his o’s and u’s sound funny.  Was he from up north? Luzia wondered, as he helped her to her feet. One of the Great Lakes states probably. 

 

For a moment, they both just stared at each other, his arms still gripping Luzia’s as a muttering Kay skated frantically around them, trying to pick up the contents of Luzia’s purse, as well as some things that the boy had dropped in the collision. Neither of them noticed her however, they both seemed to be in a state of shock.

 

Probably from being hit, Luzia thought vaguely, still staring at his blue eyes as he stared into her green ones.

 

“I...uh...I didn’t mean to hit on you like that…” He said softly, before suddenly blushing in a way that made the freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out like stars on his pale face. “I mean-- _ hit you _ . I-I didn’t meant to hit you like that…”

 

His blush ran all the way to the roots of his feathery, strawberry-blonde hair, and he ran a hand through it nervously, releasing his grip on Luzia. This action seemed to finally break her from her daze, as she quickly said:

 

“No I don’t mind--I mean, I knew what you meant…” And she felt a brush creeping up her own face.

 

“Well...if you’re sure you’re ok.” The boy said, with an apologetic smile, starting to back away into the rush of the rink, almost bumping into Kay this time as she tried to hand him his items, a bemused expression on her face.

  
  
  


“Yeah…” Luzia said quickly, nodding as he finally rolled away with an awkward little wave.

 

“Yeah I’m fine.”

  
  


“ _ So was he _ .” Kay’s voice whispered from behind her, dumping Luzia’s stuff back into her purse. The grin in Kay’s voice was replaced by a yelp as she hurriedly jumped back to avoid Luzia’s elbow.

  
  


***

 

Back in the apartment, Luzia flopped onto the sofa with a sigh. Well, so maybe she’d made a fool of herself in  front of a cute guy, but she’d gotten out of the house. Kay wouldn't’ be able to guilt her into leaving again for at least another few weeks now. Turning over, she pulled her notebook out of her satchel, ready to get back to translating. If she really buckled down she’d be able to finish--

  
  


This wasn't her notebook.

 

Luzia sat bolt upright as a wave of cold panic washed over her.

 

_ This wasn’t her notebook _ . Her translations,  _ gone _ . Her class notes,  _ gone _ . Her list of places to visit in New York that she’d sort of forgotten about.  _ All. Gone _ .

 

But how--

 

The boy at the roller-disco! When she’d collided with him, he’d had a notebook too! They must have switched by accident!

 

Frantically Luzia began flipping the pages. Maybe she could find an address or a phone number somewhere-- 

 

She stopped, her eyes caught, despite her worry, by the designs carefully layed out on each page.

 

There were quick black and white sketches of strange creatures with long limbs and large eyes, inked silhouettes of knights and dragons, full on color pages of what looked liked the sets for some fantastical stage play. And all across the notebook was tiny cramped writing that seemed to be half technical instructions, half story ideas.

 

Luzia found herself lingering over each page, starting from the back where she’d opened and working forward. The drawings and story snippets reminded her of the old  fairytale books she’d read as a child, full of light and shadow, danger and wonder. They reminded her, in an odd way, of home. Of the stories that her _Vovo_ Naveen would tell her when she was just a little girl, about cunning shadowmen and fireflies who fell in love with stars.

  
  


Finally, she came to the front, and found an address in Queens and a name:

 

_ Keith A. Sadowski _

 

Right then. She had a name, and an address. So all she’d have to do to get her notebook back was get down to Queen’s tomorrow...riding subway lines she’d never taken before, go into a neighborhood she didn’t know, and talk to a guy who’s first impression of her was probably “Who let this idiot out on the rink?”

 

Great.


	2. Take A Chance On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Chapter two! I'm gonna try to get these things up a they're done, but basic posing schedule will probably be Mondays :)

Luzia looked at the address scrawled out in the notebook, up at the building in front of her, and back down at the address.

 

No, this was the right place. She just...hadn’t really pictured the roller-disco guy as someone to work at an auto shop.

 

“You looking for somethin' sweetheart?”

 

Luzia turned to see a tall, muscular young mechanic with dark hair and a _far_ too familiar looking smile on his face, leaning against the wall of the garage next to her.

 

Luzia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, if she had a  _ meu  _ for every time she’d had to fend off guys like this...well she wouldn't actually have that much in American money, but it would have been a substantial amount in Maldonia.

 

“I'm looking for Keith Sadowski?” She asked, making sure to keep her voice clipped and casual, the way Kay did every time some guy on the subway tried to get fresh with them.

 

The mechanic blinked, he obviously hadn't been expecting her to say  _ that _ .

 

“You sure you want  _ Sadowski _ chica?” He asked, his smile becoming a positive smirk as he moved closer. Luzia’s hand was already in her purse, reaching for her mace.

 

“Cuz I'm pretty sure I could do a better job with  _ whatever _ it is you ne--”

 

“Rizzo!” 

 

Both the  mechanic and Luzia turned abruptly at the sound. The boy from the roller-disco--Keith-- stood in the door of the shop, a look on his face that, while not exactly  _ threatening _ , was definitely meant to make the now scowling Rizzo take warning.

 

“Just trying to help the  _ chica _ out Sadowski, no big deal.”

 

“I think I can help the lady from here, thanks Rizzo.” Keith said firmly, coming up and setting himself in between Luzia and Rizzo.

 

“Besides, The Old Man wants you inside. Something about that muffler you put into the Wilson’s car being backwards.”

 

Rizzo’s face flushed at this, and his scowl deepened, but he moved away back into the garage without another word.

 

“Sorry ‘bout him.” Keith said, not taking his eyes off the retreating figure until he was safely obscured by the garage. 

 

“He’s our resident neanderthal.” He stage whispered, smiling as he turned to Luzia. “ We use him to lift the cars when our jacks break.”

 

Luzia’s mouth twitched upwards at the joke, but she was still feeling a little on edge after the encounter.   Keith must have noticed because he took a few steps away from her to give her some space before asking:

 

“Luzia, right?” 

 

“Um, yes.” She said, blinking in surprise “But how…”

 

“Same way you know mine.” He said, still smiling, a bit more shyly now, pointing down at the notebook in her hands.

 

“Right.” Luzia said quickly, feeling her face blush once more. Of course, he’d looked at her notebook...She wondered what he'd thought of her work.

 

“If you wanna come in, I've got yours upstairs.” Keith said, interrupting her train of thought and holding open the door of the main office for her.

 

Luzia hesitated a moment. Her first impression of this place hadn't been that great, and she was reluctant to go inside.  She supposed she could just ask Keith to  _ bring _ her the notebook...but that would mean waiting alone with the chance of Rizzo coming back. And Keith did seem like a decent guy...Besides, if he tried anything she only had to reach into her purse. 

 

“Thanks.” She said finally, walking into the doorway, and smiling as she passed him.

 

He lead her to a door behind the front desk and up a flight of stairs towards what looked like an large attic loft.

 

“So is this your family’s shop?” She asked as they climbed, remembering his reference to “The Old Man”.

 

“No, but the owner’s an old friend of my family’s, which is how I got the job, and the room.”

 

“The room?” Luzia began, and then stopped as they entered the loft, her eyes growing wide.

 

One part of the loft had been converted into a makeshift bedroom, with a cot in one corner and an old dresser next to it. But the rest of it looked like the backstage of a theater production. There were a dozen crates full of bolts of cloth of all kinds and colors, and various half constructed small sets that Luzia recognized from the pages in Keith’s notebook. All over the walls similar pages had been pinned up, creating the feeling of being inside of a  kaleidoscope of the weird and wonderful. And on top of that, there were about a half dozen marionette puppets hanging from the low ceiling, knights and princesses and what looked to be something between a woolly mammoth and a rhinoceros. Strewn about the room where several other puppets, these ones the kind that slipped over a hand, in various states of completion.

 

“What...what  _ is _ all this?” Luzia asked softly, gazing around at the room in surprise, and a little bit of awe. 

 

“It’s uh-well it’s my workshop. Sort of.” Keith said, his freckles once again standing out as he began to blush. “Sorry about the  mess. I’m working on a new production right now…”

 

“Are you in the theatre then?” Luzia asked, turning around with interest.

 

“Kind of…”  Keith said, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking suddenly sheepish. “I’m...I’m a puppeteer.”

 

“I kind of noticed.” Luzia said with an amused smile, gesturing at the marionettes.

 

“Oh yeah,” Keith said, with a short nervous laugh. “It’s.. it’s kinda  _ weird _ , I know--”

 

“No!”  Luzia said quickly. He looked rather taken aback by this, but then grimaced in a way that Luzia knew meant he thought she was only trying to be polite.

 

“It’s ok, I know it’s kind of weird.”

 

“No.” Luzia said again, this time with just a touch of well-meaning firmness. This seemed to confused him as well, so she quickly added: “I-I mean...it’s just not what I was expecting is all...but did you  _ make _ that?”

 

She pointed up at the woolly rhino thing, which she could now see was sporting a pair of large leathery wings. 

 

“Yeah.” Keith said, slowly, but with a bit more confidence in his voice. “I actually made  _ all _ of them.”

 

“That’s...that’s really  _ cool. _ ”

 

Keith’s face broke into a bright, cautious smile at the praise.

 

“Would you...would you like to see how it works?” He asked, reaching up to take it down from the rafters.

 

“Yes please.” Luzia said, and she was happy to see Keith’s smile lose all traces of nervousness as she did so.

 

***

The time seemed to fly by as Keith showed her how to work the various marionettes and a few of the other puppets. He made it look so easy, but she was sure that if she tried it she'd tangle the strings in an instant.

 

There was an almost tangible sense of earnestness, of passion for what he did in Keith’s voice  as he showed Luzia his work. As if he'd been waiting his whole life for someone ask him about it, to show interest in his interest.

 

“And how did you make the wings on this one?” Luzia asked, pointing at a beautiful marionette of a fairy princess.

 

“It’s actually just green saran wrap, you know like the kind they have at the grocery store?” Keith explained, holding the fairy out to let Luzia gently touch the bright, verdant wings. 

 

“I just stretched it tight over some wire coat hangers and then poked holes in it with a pin to make the designs.”

 

“Its beautiful.” Luzia whispered, turning to smile at him. But her eyes went wide as she caught sight of the sun going down through the attic window.

 

“Oh no, I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go. Thank you so much for--well for everything.”

 

Hastily she grabbed up her notebook and started heading down the stairs. She shouldn't have stayed as long as she had. Her stomach churned at the thought of the journey home through the rapidly darkening city.

 

“Wait-did you take the subway here?” Keith called after her from the top of the stairs.

 

She turned back to see that he had a worried expression on his face.

 

“Yeah but…it’s no big deal.” She said with a shrug, determined not to show how much of a big deal she actually felt it was.

 

At the top of the stairs Keith bite at his lip, looking pensive, before finally asking, in a cautious tone:

 

“Would...would you like me to drive you back?”

 

“Do you have a car?” Luzia asked in surprise before she could even think of a proper answer. Hardly anybody she knew in New York actually did.

 

“Sure, I moved down here in it. The Old Man let's me keep it in the far garage.”

 

Luzia hesitated once more, looking Keith over as he stood waiting at the top of the stairs. In all honesty she would  _ much _ rather get a ride then have to brave the subway in the dark. But...would this be any safer? Getting alone into a car with someone she'd really only met today?

 

But then, she'd been alone in his room with him for at least an hour, and been fine. And...and there was just something about Keith that made her feel...safe.

 

And to tell the truth, she found that she didn't quite want to say goodbye yet.

 

“Sure.” Luzia finally said, smiling once more. “That would be wonderful.”

 

***

 

“So…what got you into puppeteering?” Luzia asked as they drove away from the auto shop--And it's employees.

 

She'd been doubly glad of Keith's offer when they'd come out of the offices and almost run straight into a still scowling Rizzo. But Keith had les Luzia after him towards his car--a blue Ford Mustang--without letting the mechanic say a single word.

 

Still, Luzia shuddered at the thought of how close she’d come to running into him alone once more.

 

“Well, I’ve always liked theatre.” Keith said in answer as they turned onto the main road. “And I’d always had this vague idea about doing something on the stage or in film growing up. I figured I’d end up doing sets or script-writing or something.”

 

“Not acting?” Luzia asked, surprised. He had such an exuberance about him when he'd talked about all his different puppets, their roles and personas, that she'd have thought acting would have been his first choice.

 

“ I like to act, but...I was always kind of shy when it came to actually   _ getting _ on the stage.”  He said with a smile and a shrug before continuing. “I knew I was good, or, at least I thought I was...I just wasn't sure that anybody else would feel the same.”

 

Keith bit at his lip then, looking thoughtful. But then shook his head as if to clear away a thought and went on, a look of fond remembrance coming into his eyes. 

 

“But then about, oh, seven or eight years ago, this documentary came on NET that was all about the history of puppets and how to make them and...I dunno. I just thought it was kind of cool. It was like..like everything I liked in theatre rolled into one. Building the sets, writing the scripts, and the best part is I can act  _ whatever _ part I want and not have to have anyone actually look at me!” 

 

He shot Luzia a quick, self deprecating grin. And she found herself thinking that she liked his real one much better. Maybe that was her mother's influence, Iria was always telling Luzia to never talk down about herself.

 

“There'll be enough people in your life willing beat up on your self-esteem,” She’d say, with a strange seriousness in her face. “You don't need to add yourself to that list.”

 

But Keith was speaking once more, pulling Luzia out of her revere.

 

“So that’s why I wanted to move down here, so I could get more experience with the writing and filming parts.”

 

“Do you get to see your parents very often?” Luzia asked. The thought of her mother--and how very far away she and her father were now--was still fresh in her mind.

 

Keith bit his lip at the question, and Luzia felt a sense of unease as he spoke again, his voice much softer and slower then it had been, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

 

“Well..My pop wasn’t too thrilled about my career choice. He wanted me to go into the family business.”  And he gestured around at the car. 

 

“He owns an auto shop too. He was hoping I’d take it over for him after my brother--”  He bit at his lip again, swallowing before going on.

 

“Well anyway. He wasn’t too happy about me coming down here. He’s  _ still _ not too happy about it. But...Mom said as long as I could do what I love and still  _ eat  _ that  _ she’d _ be happy for me.”

 

And the  smile that wasn’t a smile came back to his face as he finished by saying,

 

“But since I haven’t  _ quite _ figured out how to do that, for now I live in an attic and fix cars.”

 

“I'm...sorry for bringing  it up.” Luzia said softly, hoping that she hadn't offended him. To her relief Keith just shrugged and laughed a little.

 

“Don't worry about it. Pop and I have always butted heads, but we always come around.”

 

They turned a corner, and some of the light came back into Keith's eyes as he went on.

 

“Anyway, as you could see it's not like I’ve utterly  _ failed _ . I'm studying script writing at NYU, I’ve got an internship over at the Children’s Television Workshop,  _ and _ I’ve managed to land a couple of gigs of my own.”

 

A real grin of almost childlike delight sprang onto his face as he said this, making Luzia feel at ease once more.

 

“Actually, they’re gonna let me do a show at the Marionette Theater in Central Park in a few months, that’s what all that mess was that you saw.”

 

“That’s really cool.” Luzia said, hoping that he could tell that she  _ meant _ it.  “I wish I was as creative as you.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Keith said with surprise, looking confused. “Your stories were  _ amazing _ .”

 

“My stories?”

 

“The ones in your notebook.” Keith said, sounding more confused, and then blushing once again. “I uh, I hope you don’t mind that I read them.”

 

“No it’s alright.” Luzia said quickly, after all, she'd looked through his about a dozen times on the subway. “They’re not my stories anyway, I mean, not  _ really _ . I didn’t make them up. They’re old Maldonian folktales.”

 

“Is  _ that  _ where you’re from?” Keith asked with a note of triumph in his voice, as if he'd finally figured out a particularly  difficult puzzle. Then he seemed to think he'd been presumptuous, as he quickly stammered: “I mean...I was trying to place your...never mind.”

 

“My accent?” Luzia asked, with a note of good natured teasing.

 

“Yeah.”  Keith said sheepishly, running his hand through his hair.

 

“Actually, I was wondering about  _ yours _ .”

 

“Well,” Keith said with a self-conscious sort of laugh,  “I’m not from anywhere  _ near _ as interesting as Maldonia, just Minnesota.”

 

“Hey, to somebody who’s main frame of experience  _ is   _ Maldonia, I’m sure Minnesota would be  _ very _ interesting.”

 

That got a laugh out of him, to Luzia's satisfaction, and for the rest of the drive they talked about her translation work, with her explaining in more depth some of the stories she'd been working on.

 

“What was the one you’d scribbled out the title of so many times?”

 

“Oh, that's  _ Di Prutia En Di Carbunera _ . It’s sort of like the Maldonian version of Cinderella, but with dragons, and the princess slays one with a fire poker.”

 

“ _ Awesome _ .”

 

“Yeah it's pretty popular, I just can't seem to get the English title right.”

 

“So what's  _ your _ favorite one?”  Keith asked as they turned onto the street that would lead to her apartment.

 

“Well…” Luzia began, wondering how to explain, the very  _ very _ complicated story. “So everyone thinks I'm weird but...I really like  _ Dis Rosas I Dis Andorinas.  _ Which is the  _ saddest _ story in Maldonian Folklore. It's about a prince who gets turned into a swallow by his evil uncle and then escapes to an island where he meets a white rose who helps him break the spell and then the rose turns into a woman and goes to look for him but he doesn't know it's her and then the evil uncle finds out and…Well let me start from the beginning.”

 

She was still  only  _ halfway _ through her abbreviated story when they came up to her apartment. 

 

“So then Rosewhite takes a job in kitchen so that she can try and guard him from his uncle, but she's a  _ rose _ so she doesn't know how to do  _ anything _ and- _ -oh _ , oh this is my place.”  

 

She turned to look at Keith with a shy smile, she didn't realize how much she'd been talking until the car fell into silence once more.

 

“Sorry for going off like that.” 

 

“No!” Keith said quickly, grinning. “I liked hearing about it. Actually...it's given me some new ideas for future shows--if you'd be alright with that.”

 

“Of course!” Luzia said, grinning herself. She hadn't had anyone show so much interest her studies outside of her professors in a while...it felt nice.

 

“Thanks again.” She said, unbuckling her seat belt and reaching for the car handle.

 

“Anytime.”  Keith said, “Hey...if you ever wanted to drop by again--”

 

He stopped suddenly, and she could tell that he too was thinking of Rizzo.

 

“Or you know, hangout somewhere  _ else _ .” He amended with a grimace.  “I mean, I’d love to hear more about your translations.”

 

“I’d like that.” Luzia said as she stepped out of the car. “Say, when’s your show? I’d like to--”

 

But she was cut off by the loud blast of a bike horn behind her.

 

“Girl how did you drive here?!”  Kay cried, driving up to park beside the car. “By way of Louisiana?! I was just on my way to go find you!”

 

“Sure, we just dropped in to visit my cousins.”  Luzia said with a good humored roll of her eyes, before turning back to Keith.

 

“My uncle James  runs a restaurant in New Orleans.” She explained.

 

“Groovy.”

 

“ _ Ooh _ , is this the guy?” Kay said with  a shark like grin, peering into the car.

 

“Kay this is Keith Sadowski, who was kind enough to drive me home.”  Luzia said, making sure her friendly tone was tinged with just the right amount of  _ don't you dare embarrass me in front of him. _  “Keith this is my roommate Kay.”

 

“Hey.” Keith said, giving Kay a wave.

 

“Sup.”

 

“I like your bike.”  Keith continued, leaning out to take a better look at the Vespa.

 

“Thanks, my sister Moonshadow gave it to me when she went to live in the commune.”

 

Neither Keith nor Luzia seemed sure what to say to that. Luckily Kay didn't seem to notice and turned back to Luzia.

 

“Well since you're alive, I'm gonna go put the bike back.I stress-ordered Chinese while I was waiting for you. It’s in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

 

“Thanks, I’ll be right up.”

 

Kay nodded, looked back at Keith, and shot Luzia a roguish grin before driving back around the side of the apartment, leaving Keith and Luzia alone once more.

 

“Thanks again.” Luzia said softly, backing away from the car so that Keith could pull out.

 

“My pleasure”  Keith replied, and she could tell that he meant it.

 

He reached for the clutch, and to her surprise Luzia found herself saying:

 

“Hey--if you did want to hangout...I’m free on the second after three.”

 

“Ok.” Keith said, grinning. “Where did you want to meet?”

 

Luzia's mind went blank, she hadn't really thought that far--She's just wanted to see him again.

 

She fumbled with her notebook to give herself a moment to think--and her eyes fell on the page with her unchecked list of places to visit. She looked at the top of the list...

 

“Central Park.”  She said, looking back at Keith. “At the Rodrigo Rivera Memorial.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The documentary Keith watched is called "The Muppets on Puppets", parts of which are available on Youtube, and is actually a really interesting watch.


	3. The Name of The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! sorry to have such a big wait between chapters, it's been busy out here in real life! But I did get this done in time for Dia de los Muertos! So please enjoy and review if you like it!

Nov 2nd 1977

 

Luzia tucked her knees up onto the park bench, absently strumming  her ukelele, and checking her watch once again. She was sure she'd three thirty--hadn't she? Maybe she'd said four…

She strummed again, singing quietly along as she pondered. 

 

_ “And when you go, when you slam the door, I think you know, that you won't be away to long, you know that I'm not that strong…” _

 

This time she glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to darken with clouds. She wished she'd thought to bring an umbrella, instead of just the ukulele. But it had been a while since she'd played, and she was happy for the chance to practice without having to worry about the neighbors.

 

“ _ Just one look and I can hear a bell ring, just one look and I-- _ ”

 

“Is that ABBA?”

 

“  _ Faldi Faldonza _ !” The song broke off with an abrupt twang as Luzia jumped in her seat.

 

“Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!” Keith said quickly, coming to sit next to her, his hands raised as if to ward off an attack by the ukulele.

 

“Its ok…” Luzia said, laughing a little at herself as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal. “I was starting to wonder if you were still coming.”

 

“ Sorry.” Keith said again, with an apologetic grimace. “This place is surprisingly hard to find.”

 

The memorial was rather tucked away, not so far off the path as to be dangerous, but secluded enough to feel private. In fact, they were the only people there, though that may have been because of the weather.

 

“ So who is this guy?” Keith asked, gesturing up at the statue before them. 

 

“Rodrigo Rivera,” Luzia said, looking up at the bronze figure of a young man, arms raised up towards the heavens as if about to start conducting the oncoming rain.  “He was a classical composer who lived here back in the forties and early fifties.”

 

“ _ He restrung the stars so the rest of us could hear them _ ” Keith said, reading off the plaque on the base of the statue. “1925-1951.” 

 

He gave a short, low whistle as he read of the dates grimacing. “That's only few years older then us. That's too bad.”

 

The thought made Luzia pause as she fiddled with the pegs of the ukulele.  That was right, she was only three years younger then Ruy--( she always thought of him as Ruy, that was what her mother had always called him, never Rodrigo)-- had been when he'd been in the car crash.

 

Her stomach twisted just a little at the thought. Ruy had always seemed so--well--  _ old  _ to her, and now...

 

“You into classical music then?”

 

Luzia blinked, surprised out of her revere by the question.

 

“Not really.”  She admitted, absently plucking out a tune as she looked up at the statue.

 

“But my mother’s told me about him, she met him when she lived in New York.”

 

But it felt a bit like an understatement to say she'd just been “told” about him. Luzia had grown up with stories of Ruy, of the adventures he and Mama had had, here in New York.  He's been as much a part of the landscape of her childhood as her fairytales and flower books. He almost felt like another member of the family, like an uncle who'd died before she’d had the chance to know him.

 

“ I'd heard so much about him that I knew I had to visit this place at some point while I was here.”

 

Luzia continued, looking away from the statue at last to glance back at Keith, before smiling rather sheepishly and adding:

 

“Besides, I couldn't resist checking out the legend.”

 

“What legend?” Keith asked, looking interested. 

 

“Well, according to Kay--or, I guess her  _ aunt _ ,  who’s a huge Ru--Rodrigo Rivera fan, there's a urban legend that if you come to the park on this date...sometimes you're supposed to be able to, well,   _ see  _ him, just...lying on the grass, looking up at the stars.”

 

Luzia was pleasantly surprised when Keith, instead of laughing, or making a comment about how it sounded like something out of a Scooby Doo  episode, like Kay had after telling her, instead asked:

 

 “Why today?”

  
  


“Well, he's Mexican.” Luzia said, happy for the chance to explain what she knew. “And November second is part of the Day of the Dead celebration that they have, where your loved ones come back to Earth to visit you.”

 

“...Yeah?” Keith asked, and he sounded genuinely intrigued by the idea, as well as… well, Luzia almost thought he looked a little  _ sad _ .

 

The moment quickly passed however, and Keith's somber look was replaced by a grin as he asked:

 

“So...you play the ukulele huh?”

 

“Just a little.”  Luzia said with a modest shrug.

 

“My mother and grandfather both play very well. He actually gave me this when I moved here.”

 

She ran her hand lovingly over the wood, remembering how excited Vovo Naveen had been for her to open his gift.

 

“But it's a bit of a hassle to try and practice in the apartment, our neighbors aren't very...  _ musically inclined. _ So I don't get it out much.”

 

“Well, it sounded pretty good to me.” Keith said, smiling assuringly. 

 

“Well, I’m only really only good at the one song.” Luzia laughed, blushing a little as she remembered just what he'd caught her playing.

 

“ _ Mamma Mia _ .” Keith said with grin, and Luzia nodded, feeling her blush deepen as she did.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Hey I liked it!” Keith said quickly, waving his hand as if to sweep away her embarrassment. “Don't let me stop you. I...I'd like to hear the rest. If you wanted to play it “

 

“Well…” Luzia said slowly, her smile coming back, “If you really  _ wanted _  to hear it.”

 

“I do.”  He said, and Luzia really felt that he meant it.

 

“Ok.”  _ I warned you  _ She thought to herself, but picked up the ukelele once more.

 

_ “I've been cheated by you, since I don't know when.” _

 

Luzia sang softly, still feeling a little self conscious despite Keith's friendly grin.

 

_ “So I made up my mind, it must come to an end.” _

 

Despite the chill lingering in the air, Luzia's hands moved quickly over the strings, her confidence growing a little bit more at each note.

 

_ “Look at me now, will I ever learn? I don't know how. But I suddenly lose control, there's a fire within my soul.” _

 

Keith was still smiling, his head nodding along with the tune as she played, and Luzia found herself smiling back as she began to play the chorus.

 

_ “Just one look and I can hear a bell ring, just one look and I forget everything. Mamma Mia, here I go again. My my, how can I resist you?” _

 

There was a funny, fluttering feeling happening in Luzia's stomach as she played, moving up into her fingers, giving them extra energy. She noticed that it seemed to grow the longer she looked at Keith, and quickly ducked her head as she went on, in case her fingers got a head of themselves and slipped up.

 

_ “Mamma Mia, does it show again, my my, just how much I've missed you?” _

 

But as she neared the end of the first stanza, Luzia slowly became aware of another feeling creeping over her. A sort of nervousness, unconnected with Keith or anything else that she could see. It almost felt like--like she was being watched. She shook her head slightly to clear away the feeling.

 

_ “Yes, I've been broken hearted, blue since the day we parted. Why why, did I ever let you go?” _

 

A shiver ran across Luzia's spine as she finished, mingling with the tingling sensation in her fingers when she looked at Keith.  She felt...  _ funny _ . A sort of strange mix of excitement and...and  _ sad  _ too. Like she was standing on the brink of something wonderful about to begin--or end.

 

_ What's happening?  _

 

A bolt of lightning split the sky, startling the strange feeling out of Luzia and ripping open the clouds,  releasing the rain that had been threatening to fall all day as thunder rumbled high above them.

 

Scrambling off the bench, Luzia and Keith raced for the shelter of a gazebo on the other side of the lawn, Keith struggling to open his umbrella as they ran, both laughing off their momentary shock.

 

“Wow!” Keith gasped as they ducked beneath the wooden roof, looking out at the pounding rain “That was quite a finale!”

 

Luzia laughed again, glad to once more feel like herself, even if her heart was still pounding. She began drying off the ukulele with the inside of her coat as they resettled themselves on the gazebo bench. A heavy patter of rain drummed thunderously on the wooden roof, causing leaks in several places, and Luzia found herself sitting quite close to Keith in an effort to stay dry.

 

“So, do you play anything?”  Luzia asked, settling the instrument back in it's case and resting it on her lap.

 

“Just records and hockey.”

 

“Really?” Luzia asked with interest. Her cousin Leonor had told her about hockey when she'd come to visit from New Orleans, but Luzia had yet to see a game herself. It didn't get nearly cold enough in Maldonia for anyone to play.

 

“Well, that explains how you managed to keep your feet with me crashing into you at the rink. You must be a very good player.” She said, grimacing just a little at the memory of their first run in.

 

“Ah, I'm alright.”  Keith said with a shy, but pleased looking grin. “Besides, you didn't crash  _ that _ badly.  You just need a little practice.” 

 

“If you'd like I could teach you.”

 

“ Really?” Luzia said excitedly, before quickly blushing and adding,“ I mean, I wouldn't  want to bother you--”

 

“I’d like to.” Keith said quickly, cutting off her protest with a smile. “Besides, there’s a couple of rinks right here in Central Park that ought to open in a few weeks. We could practice there.”

 

“I'd like that.”

 

For a moment they simply sat together, smiling and listening to the patter of the rain above them. Luzia was feeling pleasantly warm despite the chill, and it wasn’t until another flash of lighting lit the sky, illuminating the memorial across the lawn that she remembered why they had met up there in the first place.

 

“Oh, I um, I brought my notebooks.” She said quickly, pulling them out of the bag at her side. She was relieved to find that they hadn't suffered any water damage from the sudden downpour. 

 

“Yeah, show me what you got.” Keith said, sounding excited. He moved closer to her on the bench in order to see, and Luzia could feel the warmth of his body as he leaned towards her. Their hands touched as she held the notebook out to him--

 

And another crash of thunder rattled the gazebo.

 

“Ehh, maybe we should move out of here before it caves in.” Keith said with a worried sort of grin, eyeing the dripping ceiling.

 

“Yeah.” Luzia agreed, stuffing the notebooks back into her bag and lifting up the ukulele case. Keith had unfurled his umbrella once again, and held his arm out towards her, a wide grin on his face.

 

“Think we can make a run for it?” He asked, gesturing at the downpour with the umbrella.

 

Luzia took the offered arm with a grin of her own. 

“ Only one way to find out.”

 

And laughing as the wind and rain buffeted them, they raced off into the storm, leaving the memorial deserted once more.

 

More or less.

 

***

 

“So what got you into folklore?” Keith asked as they sat huddled together in a small, but very crowded cafe near the edge of the park.

 

“Well, we moved around a lot when I was a kid, so I  experienced a lot of different cultures, and that was part of it.” Luzia said around her sandwich, relishing each warm bite as the cold of the rain slowly soaked out of her.

 

“And the other part?”

 

“Well…” She said slowly, wondering how to best describe how her interest had grown. “ With all that moving I didn't have a lot of time to make friends. So I spent most of my time reading. I’d always loved fairy tales, and when I realized that different countries often had different versions of the same story....well, it was like finding a friend everywhere I moved. They might look a little different, but the same soul was there underneath.”

 

She took another bite of her sandwich to hide her blush as she finished. She hasn't meant to wax  _ quite _ that poetic. She was surprised to find herself being  so open about herself with someone who was still practically a stranger. She wasn't  a shy person, but she did tend to be more private then some. The result of growing up in the most important family in her country she supposed.   But there was something about Keith that made her feel so...comfortable.

 

“So I'm studying folklore, work at a bookshop, and I'm a translator on call for the university if they need one. Pretty much all my interests wrapped into one.” She said with a shrug and a grin, balling up her sandwich wrapper and making a toss at a wastepaper basket, smiling as she made the shot.

 

“How many languages do you speak?” Keith asked, wadding up his own wrapper and eyeing the distance with professional looking intensity. 

 

“Well, English and Maldonian, obviously.” Luzia said, listing them off on her fingers. “Spanish, French, some Portuguese, some Romanian, and a  _ little _ bit of Catalan.”

 

Keith gave a low, appreciate whistle.

 

“My  _ babcia  _ taught me Polish.” He said as he finally took the shot, grimacing as the wrapper bounced off the rim of the trashcan.

 

“Really? That's so cool, Are you fairly fluent then? ” Luzia asked, balling up a napkin and tossing it after Keith's, this one also sailing in.

 

“Yeah,” Keith said with a shrug,taking up another napkin and preparing to toss it overhand this time. “Paul’s better at it thou--”

 

His hand wavered as his sentence cut off, sending the shot wide. It bounced off the neighboring table, and Keith and Luzia quickly turned their backs away to look out the window at the continuous rain.

 

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the silence much heavier then it had been inside the gazebo.

 

“How long had he been gone?” Luzia finally asked softly, biting at her lip as she did so, wondering if maybe she shouldn't have asked.

 

“Almost ten years.” Keith said dully, his eyes still on the rain trickling down the glass “He died in Vietnam.”

 

“I'm so sorry.” Luzia whispered, wishing she hadn't spoken. She thought he must have lost someone close, the way he'd looked when She'd talked about Dia de Los Muertos, but she hadn't meant to bring up any painful memories. 

 

“I don't know why I still slip up like that sometimes.” Keith whispered, finally looking back at her, a suspiciously glassy haze in his eyes.  “ I mean...I know he's gone.”

  
  


“...I lost my Abuelo ten years ago.” Luzia said slowly, her own throat tightening a little as she spoke. “Every time we go visit my Abuela in Spain a part of me keeps expecting for him to come around the corner and offer me this terrible candy he loved.”

 

She was relieved to see the corners of Keith’s mouths twitch as she said the last part, and when he spoke again, his voice was a bit stronger. 

 

“Paul always used to try and get me to eat these  _ terrible _  cheese and onion potato chips that he liked. They tasted like feet.”

 

Luzia couldn't help but laugh at the face he made, and soon enough Keith was laughing as well, the tension gone from his face and the moment.”

 

“So Spain huh?” He asked as they settled back into their seats, another napkin ball taking form in his hands. “And I thought driving to California to visit my Mom's family was far. I can't imagine having to travel to another country to see my family.”

 

“I still get amazed thinking you can drive so far and still be in the _same_ country. Everything here is so much bigger than back home.” Luzia confessed, tossing a ball at the same time Keith did, causing them to collide and drop to the floor a foot away from their target.

 

“So your parents are still in Maldonia then?”

 

“Mhm,”  Luzia said softly, trying to look innocent as a server eyed them in passing. “Pretty much all of my mother's family lives there, expect for my Uncle James and his family.”

 

“In New Orleans right?”

 

Luzia nodded as she cautiously took aim once more, pleasantly surprised that he'd remembered.

 

“Do you miss not being able to see them that much then? Or is it pretty normal?”

 

Luzia shrugged, the paper ball sailing smoothly into the bin. “They'll come up for holidays sometimes, and we've gone down a few years. They said they'd come up and visit  me for the next Morandia.”

 

Seeing Keith's confusion she quickly explained,.

 

“Oh, that's our annual harvest festival. It's in October though so I've got about a year to wait.”

 

The realization made Luzia pause in mid throw. It would be a whole  _ year _ before she saw anyone she was actually related to. 

 

“I've...actually never been apart from family this long.” She confessed softly, crumpling the napkin even further. 

 

“You and your parents are pretty close aren't you?” Keith said, just as softly, his own ball finally sailing into the bin.

 

“How'd they feel about you moving so far away?”

 

Luzia shrugged with a slightly bitter smile. “They weren't to thrilled either.” 

 

Iria in particular had been  _ far _  from happy about Luzia living so far away, and especially living in New York after everything that had happened there over the past few years. . She'd listed out a very extensive set of reasons why it would be far more effective for Luzia to stay in Maldonia and attend the National University, Luzia had been determined. She had her father's patience and her mother's stubbornness, and eventually Iria had reluctantly given in.

 

Luzia had been ecstatic at having her blessing to go, but she still felt an odd pain of fully each time she thought back to the night before she'd left. Walking past her parents room, she'd been sure She'd heard faint, muffled crying.

 

“So your Mom's from Maldonia, and your Dad's from Spain.” 

 

Keith's question shook Luzia from her memories, and it took her a moment to nod in reply.

 

“So how'd they even meet?”

 

“Oh they'd known each other forever.” She explained, tossing the now shredded napkin without much success. “They met at some party as kids and became penpals. Apparently they used to run up quite the phone bill once transatlantic calling became a thing.

 

“Childhood romance huh?” Keith asked with a grin. Luzia laughed, but couldn't quite get her smile to match his.

 

“Well, not...not exactly…” She began, unsure of how to proceed. True her parents had always been friends, best friends even. But... there was always something about them that seemed-- _ different _ then the rest of the couples in her family. She just wasn't sure what it was.

 

“It's-- _ seven o clock? _ !” Luzia gasped, cutting her own explanation off as she caught sight of the clock on the wall. She leapt up, hurriedly scooping up her notebooks and ukulele case.

 

“ Oh  _ razios _ I promised Kay I'd call her at five to let her know we'd met up ok. Oh she's gonna think I got killed and when she finds out I haven't she'll kill me herself!”

 

After a few frantic minutes she was able to convince the head waiter to let her use their back phone, and a few tense minutes after that Luzia came back to Keith looking sheepish and a little bit like she’d been scolded by a particularly severe school marm.

 

“Well, will you live?” Keith asked with a nervous laugh as she sat back down.

 

“Yeah.  _ Barely. _ But I should probably head back now anyway. I've got some papers I need to work on.”

 

“Yeah, I should probably  be heading back soon too.” Keith agreed, glancing up at the clock himself.

 

Both of them remained sitting for a while longer though, and Luzia couldn’t shake the feeling that neither of them really wanted to go.

At last however, Luzia made herself get up. “Thanks for a great time.” She said as Keith followed her to the door, holding it open with his umbrella once more blocking the rain.

 

“Here, let me call you cab.”

 

“Oh you don't have to do that.” Luzia said quickly, blushing just a little at the thought. Calling a New York cab for a lady in the rain. It was such an oddly-- _ romantic _ gesture, like something out of an old black and white movie. And she found that the funny, tingling feeling was back in her stomach again. 

 

“Don't worry about it.” Keith said, waving his free arm out towards the passing cars. In no time at all it a seemed, a slick yellow cab pulled up alongside them. Keith once more opened the door for her after giving the cabbie her address.

 

“What a gentleman.” Luzia said with a smile as she slide in, happy to be out of the wind.

 

“Heh, well, Rizzo’s always ragging on me about being a “ _ Prince Charming. _ ” Keith said with a shrug, rubbing his neck as he leaned against the door. 

 

“It’s probably the only thing he’s right about.” Luzia said firmly, making Keith laugh once more.

 

“We should do this again.” She continued, hastily scribbling down her number on a notebook page and ripping it out to hand to him.

 

“Definitely.” Keith said softly, taking the paper and slipping it into his coat’s breast pocket.

 

“Well,  _ Abinaza , Albaztru Prutto. _ ” Luzia said with a teasing grin as she shut the door, wondering if he’d realize what she’d said from the context.

 

“ _ Do zobaczenia... księżniczka _ .” Keith replied, in a tone that made her feel that he did. But before she could ask him what  _ he’d _ said, the cab had started off, leaving her looking out the rain streaked back window at a rapidly shrinking Keith, still holding his umbrella over his head.

  
  
  


***

 

Luzia did not get nearly as much work done as she’d wanted to that night. Mostly because her mind kept drifting off to her conversations with Keith, or just thoughts of Keith in general. His smile, his laugh, the way the freckles on his nose crinkled when he concentrated on making a paper ball shot. Around eleven, she finally gave up and climbed into bed, the steady drizzle of rain lulling her into a dreamy stupor.

 

She’d never quite felt like this before. It was exciting, and a little scary...but she thought that she liked it. 

 

But there was something else, something that had been bothering her ever since that strange moment in the park when she'd felt like someone was watching her. Something she’d been able to push back when she’d been with Keith that was now starting to resurface the deeper she slipped into sleep.

 

The thing was...in the moment  that the lightning had lit the sky, Luzia could have sworn she’d seen a tall, thin, tousled hair man  standing by the statue of Rodrigo Rivera, looking at her and Keith as they ran out of the rain.

 

But he hasn't been there a second before, and he wasn't there a second after.

 

_ You've been reading too many stories Luzimi.  _

 

She thought to herself as she rolled over, trying to get comfortable. Another burst of lightning lit her room as she did so, casting long, strange shadows over her walls. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the memory of that strange,  _ familiar _ looking man.

  
  


_ There's no such things as ghosts. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Albaztru Prutto is Maldonian for "Blue Prince" which is their equivalent of Prince Charming in fairytales, similar to how Spanish fairytales have "El Principe Azul"


End file.
